I never would have imagined that I’d feel as much contempt for mainstream Democrats as I once did for the homophobic, racist religious fascists who surrounded me while I was growing up... and I definitely never thought I’d feel angry and depressed about, of all things, Dr. Seuss... but here we are.
I never would have imagined that I’d feel as much contempt for mainstream Democrats as I once did for the homophobic, racist religious fascists who surrounded me while I was growing up... and I definitely never thought I’d feel angry and depressed about, of all things, Dr. Seuss... but here we are.
Among the (many) gross, depressing points that Very Smart People are making in defense of the memory-holing of Dr. Seuss, these are two that aren’t getting enough pushback:
1) “It’s a shame that the trashy MAGAtards have nothing better to do than pretend to get upset about racist children’s toys.”
Art—even art for young people that becomes hugely commercially successful—is not a “toy” or merely a “product.” Dr. Seuss was an author and artist, a figure of major cultural importance and massive influence. He was not a manufacturer of racist water guns.
In some ways, the reduction of art to “content,” and the elevation of advertising executives to “creatives,” was a necessary preamble to the coming wave of cultural destruction and censorship.
2) “I’ve never heard of these books, and I’m willing to bet that none of you had ever heard of them before this week.”
If I Ran the Zoo is not an obscure book.
And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street is a major work of children’s literature. It wasn’t just Dr. Seuss’s first children’s book; it’s also one of his finest, which means it’s one of the most beautiful and delightful children’s picture books of all time. (I fucking LOVED that book when I was a little kid. After this ugly cancellation, I looked at a PDF to see whether it was actually any good. In other words: I read it for the first time since I was four or five years old. It’s a beautiful book about the imagination of children, and the weirdness of the world as seen by a child. It’s a sweet, joyous, humane book.
True “unchecked privilege” is shrugging off cultural losses like this, pretending that they are meaningless, or using this frightening moment in the progression of corporate censorship as an opportunity to be aloof on social media for the likes and retweets.
The opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety, it’s moderation. The opposite of religious fundamentalism isn’t woke true believerism/aggressive atheism, it’s agnosticism-religious and social.
I never would have imagined that I’d feel as much contempt for mainstream Democrats as I once did for the homophobic, racist religious fascists who surrounded me while I was growing up... and I definitely never thought I’d feel angry and depressed about, of all things, Dr. Seuss... but here we are.
Among the (many) gross, depressing points that Very Smart People are making in defense of the memory-holing of Dr. Seuss, these are two that aren’t getting enough pushback:
1) “It’s a shame that the trashy MAGAtards have nothing better to do than pretend to get upset about racist children’s toys.”
Art—even art for young people that becomes hugely commercially successful—is not a “toy” or merely a “product.” Dr. Seuss was an author and artist, a figure of major cultural importance and massive influence. He was not a manufacturer of racist water guns.
In some ways, the reduction of art to “content,” and the elevation of advertising executives to “creatives,” was a necessary preamble to the coming wave of cultural destruction and censorship.
2) “I’ve never heard of these books, and I’m willing to bet that none of you had ever heard of them before this week.”
If I Ran the Zoo is not an obscure book.
And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street is a major work of children’s literature. It wasn’t just Dr. Seuss’s first children’s book; it’s also one of his finest, which means it’s one of the most beautiful and delightful children’s picture books of all time. (I fucking LOVED that book when I was a little kid. After this ugly cancellation, I looked at a PDF to see whether it was actually any good. In other words: I read it for the first time since I was four or five years old. It’s a beautiful book about the imagination of children, and the weirdness of the world as seen by a child. It’s a sweet, joyous, humane book.
True “unchecked privilege” is shrugging off cultural losses like this, pretending that they are meaningless, or using this frightening moment in the progression of corporate censorship as an opportunity to be aloof on social media for the likes and retweets.
The opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety, it’s moderation. The opposite of religious fundamentalism isn’t woke true believerism/aggressive atheism, it’s agnosticism-religious and social.
"He was not a manufacturer of racist water guns."
I might steal this one too.